


Stiles is Different

by TheRealDanniX



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: I Don't Even Know, M/M, Not Beta Read, Pre-Slash, Short One Shot, Stiles Stilinski Gets Bitten
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:33:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29571084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRealDanniX/pseuds/TheRealDanniX
Summary: He found himself prowling the loft, trying to come up with a better plan. With any plan whatsoever. But there was nothing there. Isaac didn’t trust him. Boyd and Erica were gone. Scott would never join him. But Stiles. Well, Stiles was different.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 12
Kudos: 248





	Stiles is Different

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> So, just, I don't even know what this is. It's been stuck in my head all day and doesn't fit in any of my WIPs, which I should have been working on instead of this, but I needed to get something written, so y'all get this.
> 
> For anyone who's been looking for updates for Blue Eyes, it's in progress. Life has been exhausting and trying to focus on one fic is just not happening right now. I'm hoping to have a chapter up before March, but if things keep going as they are, I don't know if I will.
> 
> As always, let me know what you think in the comments and drop some kudos if you like it.  
> I love hearing from y'all <3

“We don’t need Scott if we have Stiles,” Peter insisted. 

“I’m not biting him,” Derek growled. “He doesn’t want to be a wolf.”

“I was aiming for him, you know.” Peter leaned against the wall examining his claws. “That night I bit Scott. There was something so promising about his scent, but one can only do so much when working with limited mental capacity. I even offered Stiles the bite later and he turned me down. I suspect he would respond differently to you.”

“Peter.”

“Nephew, I promise I’m not being rude here. Nor am I suggesting that you bite him without his consent. We can all see how well that worked out for me. What I am saying is that Scott without Stiles is useless. But Stiles without Scott is pure, unbridled potential. We don’t need Scott if we have Stiles.” Peter looked up at that flashing his eyes. “If you can manage to get Stiles on your side, then you will be able to figure out almost any threat that may come for our territory.”

“It doesn’t matter if I can get Stiles to trust me. He’s loyal to Scott and Scott will never trust me,” Derek snapped.

“Scott has violated that loyalty many times.”

“Peter, stop.”

“You need a pack, Derek. Boyd and Erica ran off. Isaac has deferred to Scott’s little make-shift pack. Stiles was forgotten and left by the boy he calls his best friend, crushed by his crush, and has been lying to his father for so long you can taste the deception in his scent. If you can give him attention, which you can and do already, and you can free him from lying, you, Derek, can circumvent his loyalty to Scott.” Peter put his claws away and straightened up. “Do not let this chance pass you up.” Then he was gone. Derek let out another growl and slammed his fist into the wall of his new loft. He could feel his control slipping as the pack bond with Isaac thinned. Peter was right. He needed a pack. He couldn’t trust Peter enough to form a new bond with him, but he needed a pack. He found himself prowling the loft, trying to come up with a better plan. With any plan whatsoever. But there was nothing there. Isaac didn’t trust him. Boyd and Erica were gone. Scott would never join him. But Stiles. Well, Stiles was different. 

Several hours later, Derek found himself outside of Stiles’ house again, just watching the teen. It was a habit he’d picked up back when they were trying to find Peter. He hadn’t seen a reason to stop when the Kanima was around, though he’d never been sure why he’d felt the need to keep Stiles safe. After biting Gerard, he’d been trying to stay away, but every night he found himself outside the teen’s house watching until Stiles went to bed. That night he wasn’t planning on doing anything different. But the window was open this time. An hour after Derek arrived, Stiles let out a very loud sigh. “Just come in Sourwolf. Before my neighbors call my dad again,” he grumbled. Derek frowned but climbed up to Stiles’ window anyways. “It’s pretty hard to explain why an ex-fugitive is hovering outside my house every night. Especially when I don’t know.” Stiles spun around in his desk chair to face the window. “So what are you doing here Derek?” Stiles looked tired. The bruises from that night had faded from Stiles’ face, but Derek could see how Stiles shifted carefully and could still scent the pain on him. Derek realized he’d been quiet too long when Stiles raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Dude, come on.”

“Don’t call me dude,” Derek said. 

Stiles rolled his eyes. “What are you doing here, _ dude _ ?” Stiles repeated. Derek bared his teeth but didn’t answer. Stiles let out an explosive sigh and rolled his eyes again. “Fine. Whatever. Just, if you have to be a creeper do it in here. I lie to my dad enough without having to explain a supernatural stalker.” He turned back to his computer without another word. Derek frowned at him as he took in the room. He noticed that Scott’s scent in the room was stale. He could smell dried blood from the old bandages in Stiles’ trash can. Probably from whatever wounds Derek couldn’t see. Derek went over to the chair by the bed and took a seat, watching Stiles. Stiles ignored him, clicking around on his computer for a while. Every so often he’d make a sound and write something down. Eventually, Derek got curious though.

“What are you doing?” Derek asked.

“Research,” Stiles said.

“On what?”

“Right now? The Beast of Gevaudan. It doesn’t sound like it was actually a werewolf. More like something werewolf adjacent,” he replied absently. “Supposedly, Allison’s family killed it, but I wanted some outside sources to verify that since it’s pretty damn hard to trust the Argents. Even with the little stuff. You and your puppies are better. Even though I don’t like them much, I’m fairly confident they won’t kill me.”

“They aren’t my puppies,” Derek sighed. 

Stiles frowned as he turned around. “Dude they’re your pack. You made them. They’re your responsibility.” 

“Boyd and Erica left. I haven’t seen Isaac in days. They aren’t my pack. They aren’t my puppies. They aren’t my anything,” Derek growled. He felt his eyes flare as Stiles went uncharacteristically stiff. 

“They left you?” His voice was suddenly quiet. Derek let out another growl but didn’t answer. He tried to reign himself in, but his control was too frayed to push the shift back entirely. He knew his eyes were still rimmed with red and his teeth were too sharp. “Derek, answer me. Your pack left you?”

“Yes, Stiles. They left.” He glared at the teen. Stiles looked back, seemingly in shock. Then something shifted. Derek could see how quickly his thoughts started forming in those whiskey-colored eyes. 

“They left you. You don’t have a pack," Stiles breathed. " Even with Peter alive, you don't have a pack because you can't trust Peter as far as  _ I _ can throw him for many many many good reasons." Stiles' eyes got wide. "Scott won't agree to it and even if he would I don't think you'd really want him in your pack after what he did to you. Which leaves either biting random people again or me." 

Derek's claws slid out and his eyes flared red again. "You." Derek’s fangs dug into his lip as he tried to reign himself in. Stiles wasn’t actually offering. It was another sarcastic comment. 

"Yeah, me. I know you don’t like me, but I am an option. I mean, I'm better than a bunch of strangers that might run off when things get hard again."

"You don't want to be a werewolf." It was hard to force the words out.

"It wasn't in my immediate plans but I'd rather be a werewolf than let you go feral,” Stiles snorted. Derek glared at him, barely holding back a snarl. “But that’s not why I’m offering. Don’t get me wrong, any feral werewolf would be bad, but I’d probably just make Argent aware if it were anybody else. You, well, I don’t want that to happen to you.” Stiles rubbed at his neck as he looked at the ground. 

Derek forced himself to breathe, and focused on getting control of his shift. “Why?” he managed. He could feel tension thrumming through him. His wolf was clawing at him, begging to be let out. Begging to bite. He needed a pack and here was someone he trusted offering themself on a silver platter. 

Stiles looked up at him, disbelief tinting his scent. “Because you’re an asshole. And a Sourwolf. And a creeper. But you’re also not a bad guy. You haven’t done anything essentially wrong. You just got dealt a really bad hand, and you keep trusting the wrong people.” Stiles glared at him pointedly. His eyes flicked over Derek’s face, and Derek knew the other man could see the shift coming out. “You’re a jerk, but I trust you, Derek. So get over yourself and bite me before you get yourself killed.” Stiles shoved up the sleeve of his shirt, exposing his left wrist and held it out to Derek. “I promise I won’t leave you alone.” Derek was shaking as he moved to the bed. Then he took Stiles’ hand and tugged him out of the desk chair. He nosed at the pulse point there. 

“Are you sure?” Derek asked, giving Stiles one more chance to back out. After all, Stiles was different. Not just another beta. The offered wrist said as much.

“Bite me, Alpha,” Stiles ordered and Derek obeyed. He sank his fangs into the warm flesh of Stiles’ wrist and tasted the coppery blood as he did. Stiles made a quiet sound of discomfort but didn’t pull away. Derek kept his teeth there until he felt the bond snap into place. Stiles gasped, reaching for Derek with his free hand and gripping his leather jacket tightly. Derek pulled back and left his shift fade. Then he tugged Stiles down onto the bed with him, finally feeling like he was in control again. Finally feeling anchored. He ran his nose up Stiles’ neck and Stiles let him, pliant in his hands.

“Thank you Stiles,” Derek whispered. 

It was quiet for a moment while Stiles adapted to the feeling of the pack bond. “Why would they leave if it felt like this?” he muttered, sounding genuinely confused. Derek didn’t respond. He knew they left because they hadn’t felt safe or cared for or trusted. He also didn’t know if Boyd or Erica or even Isaac had ever felt the full extent of the pack bonds. He hadn’t had time to explain them and, while they’d agreed to be pack by default, they hadn’t really understood what it meant to be pack. Stiles did, because Stiles was different. Stiles knew exactly what he was getting into. He knew that it would probably be a fight to just stay alive for a while. But he also knew that Derek would always come through for him. Especially now. Stiles wasn’t like Erica or Isaac, trying to solve a personal problem. Wasn’t like Boyd, looking for a family. Wasn’t even like Scott, adapting to what was forced on him. Stiles had been forced into this life through Scott, but he could have left at any time. He just kept choosing to stay and Derek knew that he always would. The bond between them was far more developed than it had been with any of Derek’s betas.

“Get some sleep. Come to the loft tomorrow,” Derek said, releasing Stiles. Stiles let him go.

“And if the bite doesn’t take?” Stiles asked.

“It took,” Derek smirked. He left through the window just as the cruiser turned down the street. Stiles watched him go. 


End file.
